“Today was day one of stage two of your training.” Tim’s eyes are sharp, glaring at Lucy as he folds his arms.
“So, what? Does that mean I’ve lost all the respect that I’ve earned?” She doesn’t mean to bite back, but it’s hard not to let the irritation bleed into her voice. Here, she’d thought they were getting somewhere, that the last six months had been enough for them to forge at least a little bit of a personal bond. But today? Today had felt like her first day all over again. Only worse, because now she knows that Tim is capable of compassion, and just actively choosing to walk all over her.
“You lost that when you lied on a report.”
He’s so matter of fact about it that Lucy believes him for a second. But then she starts thinking about it, and she can’t come up with any reports she’s lied on. They’d really only worked one call with any paperwork today, and he was acting cold and stony before that. Everything else had been Tim Tests, and him rolling his eyes when he had to take her back to the station for a clean uniform, even though it was his fault she needed to change in the first place. All day, the only thing she didn’t put in a report when her first reaction was to empathize with the missing woman’s husband, and he hadn’t even turned out to be involved once they’d investigated.
“What?”
“I read your account of what happened at the quarantine house.”
“O-OK?” That had been two weeks ago; she’d filed the paperwork as soon as she was cleared from the scene, wanting to get it over with and put it out of her mind, hopefully forever. Lucy hates thinking about that day, can hear her voice wavering now, as she tries to shake the memories flooding her consciousness. There’s Tim, closing the door in her face, quite literally shutting her out. Tim, having to watch Pete die a painful, violent death and wondering if he might face the same thing, but still doing the job. Tim, seizing in the ambulance, scaring her more in that moment than any gunshot she’d ever faced.
She doesn’t want to think about it, because she doesn’t want to think about losing him. Not yet, not when he hasn’t even finished training her yet. She’s not ready to face that, not ready to think about doing her job without him backing her up.
Maybe in another six months, but even then, he’ll still be around to support her. Unless the unthinkable happens, which is exactly why she’s not thinking about it.
“Hey, Buck?” Eddie raps his knuckles gently against the wood. It feels odd to be knocking on his own bedroom door, but over the last few months, it’s become Buck’s room just as much as it’s his, and Eddie wants to respect his boundaries. If he needs space, Eddie will give him space. “Can I come in?”
The respect doesn’t stop him from sighing in relief when he hears Buck whisper an invitation, though.
He pushes the door open slowly. Buck’s feet come into view first, the white of his socks sticking out against the dark carpeting. He’s sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him as he leans against the side of the bed. His head is tipped back, staring at the ceiling fan going around and around above him.
Buck turns to look at Eddie as he steps into the room, hands tucked into his pockets. He stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed, not quite sure where his place is in all of this.
“Buck?” He asks his name softly, hoping the other man can offer him some sort of guidance here. As much as he can tell what Buck is thinking, has long been able to tell when there’s something on his mind, right now he doesn’t know why. He’d thought he’d come up with every possible response to what he’d said, but never in a million years would he have imagined this, imagined Buck getting up from the table, shoving his chair back roughly and taking off down the hallway to hide in Eddie’s room
In their room.
“How could you say that?” Buck pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his elbows there. His hands curl together, supporting his temple when he leans his head forward to stare at Eddie. “How could you tell me that you love me?”
“Buck …" Eddie trails off, trying to find the words for his next thought. His mouth opens and closes several times before he gives up and waves his hand at the space beside Buck. “Can I sit?”
Buck nods, and Eddie steps closer, turns around to slide down and settle in against the corner of the bed. He’s on the same side as Buck, but has left a good foot of space between them, in case Buck doesn’t want to be close to him right now.
For a moment, neither of them say anything. Then, Buck draws in a shaky breath and Eddie braces himself for the worst.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“12-ounce honey latte with almond milk for Tyler!”
“12-ounce honey latte with almond milk for TK!”
“12-ounce honey latte with almond milk for Ty!”
“12-ounce honey latte with almond milk for Kennedy!”
Every day, it’s the same drink. Every day, he’s here at the same time. Carlos could set his watch to this guy, even if he apparently could never make him a nametag.
He walks in 20 minutes after opening, orders the same drink and sits down at the second barstool from the end to wait. Carlos scrawls the name of the day on the side of the cup, even if there’s no one else in the dining room, even though he’s always the one to make the latte, even though he could just walk over and slide it in front of him.
Because he’s hoping that maybe one day, he’ll use the same name twice in a row. And then Carlos will know what his name actually is.
Every day, it’s the same drink. And every day, it’s a different name.
“Buck, please.” Eddie stares at him, longing and pain clear in his expression.
“No. I can’t, Eddie. I won’t let you do this to yourself.” Buck takes a step back and looks at the floor. “You know my history. You know what kind of person I am. I don’t want to hurt you, and it’ll only be worse if it happens down the road.”
“You’re right, I do know your history. But I also know that it’s too late for me now. You don’t get to decide how I feel, and neither do I. I can’t help it, Buck, but I’m so far gone over you. And you said you feel the same way. So, please, don’t do some noble thing where you give up what you want – what we both want – for some alleged greater good. We might get hurt. We’ll probably get hurt. But I’d sure as hell rather get hurt with you than alone.”
He’s all but begging now, trying to understand how five minutes ago they were curled up on the couch together and Eddie asked Buck how he’d feel about going out on an official date, as boyfriends, not as the slightly-more-than-platonic best friendship they’ve been dancing around for months. Buck hadn’t reacted as well as Eddie had hoped he would, and now he’s standing across the room, slowly backing toward the door every time Eddie tries to step closer to him.
“I’m not worth it.” It’s the sort of sentence that Eddie feels like should be shouted in the midst of an argument, not whispered as tears slide down Buck’s cheeks. “I want to date you, you have no idea, but I know I’ll hurt you, and I’m not worth that kind of pain, Eds. You deserve so much better than me.”
“I don’t want better than you, Buck.” Eddie’s heart cracks when Buck starts crying, but he’s glad that Buck doesn’t back away this time when he crosses the room to take his hands. “I don’t want more than you, or less than you, or different than you. I want you, Evan, as much of yourself as you’ll let me have, as long as you’ll let me have it. Because you’re so incredibly worth it to me. Please, just let me prove that much to you.”
There are tears on both of their faces now, though Eddie isn’t sure when he started to cry. He’s squeezing Buck’s hands, trying to push every bit of the love he feels for his best friend into the touch.
Because every word of it is true. He’s not sure when it happened, when he first looked at Buck and saw something more there than a best friend, but after he realized it, he was a lost cause.
Then came the months of limbo, where they skirted around their feelings, pretending that all best friends hooked up with each other occasionally. Then more than occasionally, until eventually they’re kissing goodbye at the front door whenever they part ways.
Asking Buck to date him felt like the next natural step, but if he’d have known it was going to send the other man reeling across the room, maybe Eddie would have kept the question to himself. Now that it’s out there, though, he doesn’t want to take it back. He just wants Buck to believe that he’s worthy of Eddie’s love.
So he squeezes Buck’s hands again, dips his head down to catch Buck’s gaze.
“Please. Buck, I’m going to love you either way, so you might as well let me do something with it.” He takes a tentative step closer, all the way into Buck’s personal space, and slides one of his hands up Buck’s arm to run his thumb along his jawline. “If it’s actually terrible, we can take it all back, I promise, but can we at least try?”
It feels like forever before Buck answers, but that’s OK with Eddie. He’ll wait for Buck as long as he needs to, because he knows he’s worth that much and more.
Finally, though, Buck squeezes his fingers back and looks up.
“Please, please love me. I don’t think I could stand it if you didn’t.”
Eddie lets out a deep breath and closes the space between them, dropping Buck’s hand to wrap both arms around his waist and hold him tightly.
“Lucky for the both of us, I don’t think I could stop loving you, even if I tried.”
Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1) (could be established relationship, could be pre-relationship, either way, they’re basically co-parenting Chris)
Word Count: 1025
Original Pub Date: 20 April 2020
Read on Ao3 here
Fun fact: Buck and I have the same favorite childhood book
“Buck! Look, they have ALL the Captain Underpants books!” He hears Chris’s excited shout from the next aisle over and rounds the endcap to look at the shelf.
“They sure do! How many of those you think you can read in a week?” Buck laughs, watching Chris ponder his question.
“Probably like … five! Dad says I read really fast!”
Christopher starts pulling books off of the shelf and handing them to Buck, who adds them to the ever-growing stack in his arms.
“I’ve seen you sitting on the couch with a book, kiddo. He’s right; those pages are lightning-fast.”
Buck looks over his shoulder, grateful to see that there’s only one shelf left they haven’t gone through. He’s taken Chris off of Eddie’s hands for an entire Saturday of adventures, letting his best friend catch up on housework and bills, and they wound up at the local mall. Where, naturally, the first place Chris dragged him after the food court was the bookstore. He supposes it’s more exciting than an afternoon browsing through racks of clothing, and if Christopher keeps picking hardbacks like he has been, then it’ll count for a good arm workout too.
By the time he steers Christopher over to a table in the coffee shop, Buck has 37 books in the stack. He knows, because Chris counted them as he carefully slid the tower from his arms to rest on the table.
“Alright, well how about you start sorting them out while I grab us a couple of cocoas, and we’ll go through the rest together?”
He nods, already pulling the books down into smaller stacks as Buck walks away. When Buck returns, holding two paper cups, the tabletop is covered in little piles.
“That’s a lot of progress, man.” Buck laughs, sitting down across from his smaller counterpart. “You really think you can read that much?”
“Well, maybe not all at once.” Christopher sips his cocoa, looking so serious that he reminds Buck of a haggard businessman, trying to organize the next great corporate merger.
“Hey, don’t think too hard about it. You read fast, but I don’t think you read this fast. How about you narrow it down to two books today, and I’ll pick one out for you too, as a surprise?” He watches Christopher’s face fall just a little bit. “Besides, if we buy them all today, then we won’t have an excuse to come back another time.”
“Yeah! That’s right, we can come back!” He perks right back up and starts rummaging through the stacks. “All of these ones have animals in them, but I have lots of animal books already. And I just started reading these books – they're about a boy whose name is Fudge!” Christopher looks up and laughs at the exaggerated confusion on Buck’s face.
“He’s named Fudge? That’s a strange name.”
“He’s a strange kid.” Christopher shrugs. “You can read one sometime, Bucky; you’ll see.”
“I might have to do that.”
“I for sure want the new Captain Underpants book.” He pulls a book from the middle of a stack and hands it to Buck. “See? This time they have to save the school from Sir Stinks-A-Lot! And … this one!” He waves the softback copy of Lunch Money in the air. “The back says it’s about a boy who writes books. And I like to read books, so I’d probably like him.”
“Yeah? I’ll bet you would.” Buck smiles and takes the second book. “Now how about we go put the rest of these back, then I’ll pick up your surprise? I’m thinking about one of my favorite books when I was your age. Think it’d be right up your alley; maybe we can read it together when I come over sometimes.”
“Yeah!” Christopher helps stack the books back into one big pile for Buck to carry back to the children’s section. Together, they’re able to get every extra book reshelved, and Buck grabs one extra on his way to the cash register, carefully hiding it behind his back.
“Buuuuuuuuck! What book is it?” Christopher tries to lean around him and see, but Buck turns to keep the book concealed.
“It’s a surprise. Quit trying to peek, you’ll see when we start reading tonight!” He sidesteps Christopher and pays for all three titles.
“Dad! Buck bought me three books!” They’ve no more than opened the front door when Christopher starts telling Eddie everything they’ve done today, the bookstore being the clear highlight.
“Really? Let’s see them!”
“I can only show you two. I don’t even know what the third one is yet, but Buck said it’s his favorite when he was in the fourth grade, and he’s going to start reading it to me tonight!” He takes the books Buck hands him and holds them out for Eddie. “Do you know his favorite book, Dad?”
“Can’t say I do, kiddo. But maybe, if you ask him really nicely, Buck will read the first chapter to us both while I get dinner on the table.”
“Please, Buck? Will you? Can we start reading right now?” Christopher makes his best puppy-dog eyes, which are undercut a little bit by the smile on his face.
It’s a good thing Buck’s never been able to deny him anything.
“Sure, we can start now. How about we go sit in the kitchen so your dad can hear too? I think he’ll like this one.”
“What is it?” Chris clambers into the kitchen, dropping gracelessly into his chair.
“It’s called From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.” It’s about a brother and sister who run away from home to live in a big art museum. Maddie read it to me when I was about your age, and we would talk about which museums we’d want to go live in.”
“Dad! Can I live in a museum?”
Eddie laughs.
“I don’t think so, but we can go visit one sometime.”
Christopher cheers as Buck opens the front cover.
“Ready?” When Chris nods and ‘zips his lips,’ Buck starts reading.
“Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away …"
“Eddie, you can’t buy cupcakes for the school bake sale! It’s cheating!” Buck gasps as Eddie sets three dozen pre-frosted cupcakes in the cart.
“Buck. We’ve both pulled doubles all week. We’ve hardly had time to see Christopher, never mind help him bake cupcakes. And no, I’m not asking Carla or Pepa to do it. They already do too much for us.”
“Eddie. This is blasphemy!” Buck genuinely looks for all the world like Eddie just kicked his puppy or something equally horrible.
“No one will be able to tell they’re not homemade. Trust me.”
“Sure,” Buck scoffs. “Since when can you frost a perfect two-tone swirl?”
“I can’t. But I can tell what colors go together. Just wait until we get home and I’ll show you the best parenting shortcut I’ve ever learned.” Eddie turns around and kisses Buck playfully on the cheek.
--
“Alright, what’s your big secret?” They’re barely in the door when Buck sets the cupcakes on the table and stares expectantly at his boyfriend.
“Grab a bowl and the hand mixer and I’ll show you.” Eddie reaches for a spoon and opens the first container.
Together, they scrape the blue and green swirled icing into the bowl, and Eddie flips the mixer on, blending the colors to a soft teal. He adds a little milk and powdered sugar and turns to Buck.
“There. Now taste, and tell me you can’t tell these started on a Walmart shelf.” He reaches a finger into the bowl and holds it out for Buck to try the frosting. He does, sucking on the tip of Eddie’s finger in a way that makes him very glad Chris is still at school. “So?”
“I maintain that it’s cheating, but if you’re this good at cheating at bake sales, I suppose you’ll just have to buy my silence with cupcakes.” Buck smirks.
“Yeah? Or …" Eddie matches his expression. “I could buy it with something else …"
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!
A short snippet:
Lucy: Bethesda tonight, and maybe breakfast in a few hours? When we’ve both had some sleep? I know a place, great avocado toast.
Tim: *groans* see, you almost had it, then you said ‘avocado toast.’ *they laugh* but fine, I’ll find someplace we can get a //decent meal// and pick you up at noon?
